New Season, New Arrivals? - Fashion Has Not Been Innovative In a While, Yet We Still Fall For It

In the Fashion world, the four seasons differ yearly. No spring and fall are alike, and last season's burgundy craze will be the dead giveaway that you missed the butter-yellow memo this year. Colour, cut, and combination seem to be the only markers of novelty, and everything else is a reminder of the past.

"Florals for spring? Groundbreaking." The infamous The Devil Wears Prada quote is iconic because of Meryl Streep's nonchalant delivery, and it reflects how fashionistas feel when the weather gets warm. Designers and brands everywhere scramble to reinvent the wheel in an attempt to stay relevant and shape emerging trends. This is just how the business of fashion works. After all, a designer's impact is measured by their creations' trend-setting ability.

For example, I own a Zara version of the famous Jaquemus Bahia shirt dress because I thought the silhouette and cut were unlike anything in my closet, yet so flattering. The low cut accentuates my cleavage delicately, but the knot on the waist covers my belly, and the crossover folding of the hem makes my legs look longer. With each passing year of seasons and trends, my eyes still revel in the innovation of the design. This makes Jaquemus iconic and timeless, and even though I do not own a dress from them, their impact has affected me.

The Jaquemus Bahia Dress

In recent years, however, I have been consistently underwhelmed whenever I enter a clothing store or look for street style inspo in glossy pages. Oversized silhouettes have been persistent and exponentially growing larger. The capsule wardrobe, consisting of a good pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a blazer, has been overdone to the point of establishing a static fashion evolution. Nowadays, we don't get innovative design, but rather an uninspired re-interpretation of decades' past trends, reimagined in this season's new colour, and now and then, to avoid suspicion, they throw in an exciting fabric, like suede. Ever since the pandemic, the fashion of the 20s has been determined by a revival of the 90s, the noughties, but completely void of its own distinctive Zeitgeist, like the fashion of the 20s a 100 years prior had accomplished.

We all know what year it is by looking at this outfit. Will we be able to tell 20 years from now, if an outfit was from the early noughties, the 90s, or the 2020s?

Much to the chagrin of my fellow Gen-Z, skinny jeans might be making a slow but steady comeback. This demonstrates that the period before something becomes cool again is getting shorter due to the lack of current innovation. I remember that in the 2010s, nothing was more embarrassing than wearing an asymmetrical dress over bootcut jeans like Ashley Tisdale rocked in the early 2000s. Even though ten years had passed, it was not enough time to revive that trend. Yet, here we are pulling out our condemned skinny jeans that we all definitely still wore in 2019. Fashion has become a mirror of the past, and in doing so, has omitted its chance of having a future.

In terms of the economy, this situation benefits my saving goals, in that I only have to convince myself I already own something of the kind, and I don't need it in a new cut or colour. For instance, I predict that the cropped trench coat trend is not here to stay. I have owned a beautiful long trench coat for a decade, and each year, I am reassured that this is a classic worth the investment. Yet, every time I see someone don the shorter version, I feel oddly out of touch, and the need to look contemporary forces me to look up options online. It takes a concerted effort to remind myself of the classic piece hanging in my closet, and there is no need for two versions of the same kind.

A modern twist on a timeless classic won't create a new classic.

Unfortunately, most fashion trends circulate seasonal replacements of classic items we already own. In terms of consumption, this strategy is brilliant because there is no easier way to create a bored customer base than when they feel they own the same type of clothes, so they look for new purchases all the time.

I love this look on her, but would I love it in a world without social media? And without the Dyson Airwrap? Pc: @matildadjerf

Economics aside, there is an underlying problem: if fashion continues to recycle ideas, and yet, social media propagates trend alerts, then the consumer is made to believe innovation is not about originality but contemporality. And the fashion of contemporality is not based on intriguing design, but rather on a combination of old goodies that look modern altogether. It does not matter that an oversized suede blazer has been done before in the 70s; what matters is that Matilda Djerf paired it with a pale pink scarf and a Louis duffel bag. The reinterpretation of the suede blazer does not rely on a new cut or colour, but rather on its combination with other current styles and an impeccable Dyson blowout. This signifies a paradigm shift in trend-setting previously outlined by the Jaquemus dress. The future of fashion is now in the hands of content creators instead of designers.

As articulated in an insightful article by Samantha Corry for RUSSH Magazine, fashion has become premeditated and pre-determined in the subculture algorithms of social media: Scandi, Y2k, school-girl coquette, silent luxury, clean girl, etc. The author puts it best herself: "Taste used to feel like instinct, or a subversion. We weren’t trying to be understood. The whole aesthetic of mystery has been turned into moodboards with names and TikTok core labels; Each one offering the illusion of agency while quietly telling you what to wear, what to read, what to want. Trends that chew up and spit out references before they can even mean anything."

In other words, we are inundated with images of style, fashion, and trends that neatly fit into a clearly outlined category. Algorithms, created to deliver content matching our taste, regurgitate the very same labels we already liked once. Influencers will then post outfit ideas that reflect the virality picked by the algorithm. In a way, social media creates an eco-chamber of one style, curated by past likes, effectively annulling the new. The algorithm cannot innovate, and yet we are its subjects. What once used to be niche quickly becomes mainstream, and that is where the new cool resides. Ultimately, this leads to a homogenised fashion culture, wherein personal style has dwindled and designers' authority has been displaced. It might not be fashion doomsday, but it is an indication that social media's eco chamber has long transcended the digital sphere, and we are witnessing its impact on our daily choices now.

On a brighter note, what can the average consumer do, especially in this economy where disposable income becomes more scarce, to understand whether we want to buy an item because we genuinely like it or due to social media conditioning?

Firstly, ask yourself, "Does it look good without a blowout?". My hot take is that most influencers' style is 75% luscious hair, 10% glowy, tan complexion, 10% body, and a mere 5% of actual lewks. The majority of the fashion we are influenced to buy online is not based on design, but on the total package. You cannot just buy Adidas Sambas, without pinstripe pyjama trousers, orange-lens sunglasses, an oversized blazer, and ideally a Poléne bag, get with it. However, if an item looks good on you without wearing anything else in the changing room, you might have found the elusive pièce de résistance of the anti-trend sphere.

Secondly, and this comes from someone with a chronic coat condition (oh, I love a good alliteration), keep the changing climate in mind. It seems as if the transitional seasons, like fall and spring, are getting shorter each year, reducing the timespan for light jackets, ankle boots, and sneakers. Nevertheless, the fashion industry has not addressed climate change in its designs much. They insist on the illusion of transitional climates, and I now feel the need to buy a barn jacket with a cord collar, as if I cared about fishing as much as all men on dating profiles. I already own a bucket hat, if I also go for the jacket, Carhartt might as well put me on their payroll. Long story, short, keep off the jacket purchase.

Lastly, I would recommend a social media detox for multiple reasons, but regarding the matter at hand, our fashion taste buds need to be recalibrated. I am curious to discover a version of myself rooted in authenticity and uniqueness. I might find her completely content with the clothes collecting dust in her closet. This is one way to counter overconsumption, too.